Seventh Lesson- How to play.
"Babe?"
"Hmmmmm???"
"Babe, can we talk?"
"Harry, I'm sleeping. Get in the bed and shut up." I mumbled, hugging my pillow tighter and feeling the bed's weight shift when Harry got under the covers.
Harry sighed deeply and tried to find a comfortable position, shifting and tossing around until I glared at him. Noticeably struggling, he finally rolled onto his side and put a hand on my waist and let it there, his fingers drumming occasionally on my skin.
I opened my eyes and rolled to my back, finding his big bright eyes looking at me.
"Comfortable?" I asked him.
"Yeah." He grinned at me with a sheepish expression on his face. He tried to kiss my cheek but I scrunched up my face, making him stop midaction.
"Are you still mad at me?" He said in a small voice.
"I was never mad at you." Yes, yes I was. I still was.
"Babe, I swear I didn't..."
"No." I interrupted him. "You don't owe me any explanations, Harry"
"Why do I feel like I do?" He asked.
I looked at him in the eyes and smiles softly.
"Maybe we should end this."
He shook his head and put his hand over my stomach.
"I don't want to end it."
"I know you don't, you're having way too much fun fucking me."
"I really am." He laughed, brushing a loose strand of hair out of my hair and tucking it behind my ear. His eyes were looking at me so intensely, almost as if I was the most interesting person in the entire world, I couldn't help but shift and shiver under his gaze.
Knowing what he was capable of doing, he smirked and he brought his hand to my arm, so his fingers could brush the goosebumps on my skin.
My eyes fluttered close, lost in his touch for a moment. Maybe I enjoyed a little too much.
"You think they'd hear us downstairs?" He asked and I opened my eyes, considering our chances.
"Probably."
"How much do you care?" His fingers were already leaving feathery touches on my collarbones and his lips were finding their way to my neck.
"We're not having sex when my parents are downstairs!!! They'll hear us!!!"
"Wanna bet, babe?" He smirked and pushed himself off the bed, hovering over me with a hungry look in his face. I was his prey and I was trapped.
His lips were on my skin, but not with the urgency and the roughness I was anticipating. Instead, he was almost caressing my neck and collarbones, finding new ways to make me tremble under his touch.
Maybe he was just waiting for me to kiss him and I have to admit, I was temped to do it, his lips brushing the valley of my breast, that was suddenly exposed when he pulled down the neckline of my tank top, bunching it under my breast.
My whole body was covered in goosebumps, the nice kind, the one that comes along little shivers and make you arch your back a little out of sheer pleasure.
His fingers went underneath my top and I finally pulled his face to mine, crashing our lips and hooking my legs around his waist.
The kiss had turned so intense in just seconds, I almost didn't notice the buzz that was coming from his back pocket. Neither did he, to be honest, or maybe he was just ignoring it, too focused on trying to make me moan just by kissing me.
